The Threshold Child

by Callie Kanno

  As she was pressing the blade against her throat, the dull shimmer of the hilt caught her eye.

  It was amazing that the emerald enamel was visible at all, but it seemed to be able to glimmer in the darkest black. The handle felt warm in her hand, as if it had a life of its own, and Adesina’s thoughts turned to how it had come into her possession.

  It was no accident that Horas had given it to her, and she remembered the loving words that E’nes had spoken as he had returned it to her as they were leaving Pevothem. It was a family heirloom—proof that she belonged to someone. It was a tangible tie to those she had grown to love.

  Not a love in the sense that the Shimat equated with unquestioning obedience, but the kind of love that knit hearts together and withstood all odds. The kind of love that showed a young lost girl that she was not alone in the world. The love that forgave her of her mistakes and brightened the hope of her future.

  In another time, the former Shimat would not have hesitated to take the life of the young woman before her. There was no doubt that the world would be a better place without Basha in it. Even so, Adesina couldn’t bring herself to do it.

  She was not that cold, ruthless girl anymore. She had a brother and a father, a guardian and good friends. They all loved her and had shown her how to be a better version of herself. She no longer belonged to the Shimat. She was a L’avan, and the L’avan believed in mercy.

  She got to her feet and looked down once more at her ancient enemy.

  “Your life is no longer your own,” she said to the unmoving form, “because I could have taken it, but chose not to do so. This knowledge will follow you as long as you live; and although it may be a thorn to you, it will be the key to my freedom.”

  The silence that followed those words was profound. Adesina could feel their truth ringing deep within her soul.

  She turned her back on Basha and ran towards where she had left L’iam and Ravi. The scene that lay before her as she approached them seemed exaggerated by the shadows cast by the ball of light hovering in the air.

  One Shimat was sitting on the ground with his back up against the wall. His hands clutched his leg, which was mangled and bleeding. The second Shimat held a spetum and was keeping Ravi at bay. The third was bearing down on L’iam with his sword, following blow after blow.

  Hoping to provide some sort of diversion, she shouted in the Shimat language, “Stop!”

  Both Shimat looked up in surprise, pausing in their assaults. Ravi used the disturbance to his advantage, ducking around the weapon pointed at him and sinking his teeth into the Shimat’s thigh.

  There was an audible crack as the bone snapped between the Rashad’s powerful jaws. The man cried out in pain and fell to the ground. Ravi took another step towards him, bearing his teeth as a warning to remain still.

  L’iam, on the other hand, was just as distracted as his opponent by Adesina’s sudden reappearance. The Shimat disarmed the L’avan prince and swept his feet out from underneath him.

  Adesina snatched one of her throwing knives from her belt and hurled it at L’iam’s attacker. The knife struck him in the heart, killing him instantly.

  L’iam slowly got to his feet and looked at his young companion. “Thank you.”

  She brushed the thanks aside, keeping to business. “Ravi, stay here and watch those two,” she said, pointing to the wounded Shimat. “We are going to find the right cell.”

  Her guardian didn’t look very happy with the arrangement, but nodded anyway. She gestured to the ball of light floating above their heads, and it settled into her palm once more.

  Ravi’s night vision far exceeded that of a human’s, so she knew that he would be fine if she took her makeshift torch with her.

  As the two L’avan walked down the dank corridors, L’iam reached over and took Adesina’s hand. It seemed a natural gesture between the two of them now.

  “Are you injured? That woman appears to be set on murdering you.”

  A humorless smile crossed her face. “She has been ever since we were children.”

  He frowned. “Why?”

  She shrugged. “Jealousy, perhaps.”

  Adesina went up on her toes to gaze through a window in one of the closed prison doors, but it was empty. When she glanced back at L’iam, he had an amused expression on his face.

  She returned the look. “Well, I suppose I did nothing to endear myself to her.”

  He chuckled hoarsely, “I thought not.”

  In the corner farthest away from the stairway, there was a heavy wooden door with a padlock on the bolt.

  L’iam placed a hand on the door and nodded to Adesina. “One person.”

  After the earlier events, she was suspicious. “Shimat?”

  A pause was followed by a slow shake of the head. “There is so much pain in the soul…I am certain it is a prisoner.”

  She took a deep breath before flicking the ball of light upward and leaning forward to pick the lock. It was slightly more difficult to open than the previous one, but not enough to stop the determined young woman.

  Drawing her Blood Sword as a precaution, Adesina drew back the bolt and swung the door open.

  A ragged figure lay shivering on the icy stone floor, and the prisoner flinched away from the light, shielding it’s eyes and cowering in anticipation of pain. His face was swollen and discolored from numerous beatings, but Adesina could still recognize the face of the man she had seen in the High City.

  She was surprised to find she couldn’t move. Her feet felt like they were glued to the floor, and her heart was racing in circles. She struggled to fight back the tears that were forming in her eyes as she looked at the man she had been searching for her whole life.

  He squinted and stared at the two silhouettes, trying to discern their faces. “Kendan?”

  Adesina’s heart skipped a beat. Why would her father think that L’iam was Kendan? Was it possible that her former Shar had been telling the truth?

  L’iam took a few steps forward and knelt beside the prisoner. “No, Me’shan. It is I, L’iam.”

  Me’shan couldn’t believe his eyes. “L’iam? What are you doing here? How is this possible?”

  The young man smiled, unashamed of the tears that coursed down his cheeks. “We are here to rescue you! E’nes, Sa’jan and myself…”

  It was clear that he was waiting for Adesina to reveal herself, but she was still frozen in a sea of emotion.

  “E’nes is here? Where is he?” the prisoner asked.

  He nodded. “He is one level up, rescuing the other L’avan who have been captured by the Shimat.”

  Me’shan still didn’t seem to understand. “How…?”

  The L’avan prince’s smile grew softer. “Well, we had quite a bit of help.”

  Not knowing what else to do, Adesina gestured to the ball of energy, calling it to rest in her hand. The light illuminated her face, and Me’shan gasped at the sight of his daughter.

  “Ma’eve!”

  “Her name is Adesina,” L’iam corrected gently.

  He shook his head in disbelief. “I never thought you would come. You should not have come.”

  Me’shan got to his feet shakily, taking the few steps between him and his daughter. He placed a worn hand on her cheek, as if he couldn’t believe she was real.

  “So beautiful. Just like your mother.”

  She could barely find her voice. “Father,” she whispered.

  His eyes drank her in, as if he too had been waiting for this moment for many, many years.

  As much as she wanted to savor the moment, the Shimat in her urged for haste. The others would be waiting for them in the stables.

  Chapter Forty-eight: The Laboratories

  E’nes watched as Ravi sprinted away from them, frozen in the horror that they had been discovered. It was Sa’jan that spurred him into action.

  “Hurry, E’nes!”

  Together they ran down the steep, spiral stairs to the level just below. They burst throu
gh the door and stumbled straight into a surprised guard.

  Sa’jan reacted the fastest, summoning his vyala. He slowed the movements of the guard, then grabbed the dagger at his side and drove it into the Shimat’s chest. The young guard fell to his knees and then flat on the ground. The L’avan didn’t even pause to look at the fallen form before moving on.

  E’nes shuddered as he stepped over the body. “I do not think I will ever get used to such a sight.”

  His companion set his mouth in determination. “It is not a matter of getting used to it. It is remembering that an alarm is sounding and we have work to do.”

  This level of the fortress was set up in a maze of narrow corridors with plain wooden doors every several feet. Sa’jan hurried to the first one and tried the knob.

  “It is unlocked,” he said in concern.

  “Is that not a good thing?” asked E’nes.

  The older man shook his head. “That means that security measures have been placed elsewhere.”

  He opened the door slowly and stepped inside. E’nes waited anxiously until he was beckoned forward. He wasn’t sure what he expected, but it certainly wasn’t the sight that met his eyes.

  While the corridors were dimly lit with torches, this room was filled with dozens of smokeless lamps. The walls were covered with hundreds of small alcoves filled with jars and glass containers of every shape and size. Some were filled with powders or what appeared to be odd colored pebbles. Others were filled with vibrant liquids or phosphorescent sludge.

  In the center of the room there was a stone well with large rectangular tables on three of the sides. The tables were filled with books and parchment, as well as tools that one might see in the shop of an alchemist—several mortars and pestles, empty glass containers, scales, and miniature versions of braziers where things could be heated.

  The thing that caught E’nes’s eye was a series of large stone bowls on the farthest table. They were filled to the brim with a dark red liquid that almost appeared black, even in the bright light. He walked over to it, not sure that he wanted a closer look.

  Sa’jan only gave it a cursory glance as he moved to inspect the contents of the alcoves. “Blood,” he grunted.

  A wave of nausea swept over E’nes. “Whose?”

  “I have a good idea,” he replied grimly.

  After another moment of inspection, Sa’jan seemed to come to a decision. “E’nes, go get a torch. We are destroying this place.”

  The young man was only too happy to comply. He ran out into the corridor, glancing to make sure that there were no other guards, and returned to the room with the requested item.

  “We had better hurry. I heard shouting getting closer.”

  Sa’jan nodded curtly and got to work. He overturned the tables and pushed them up against the walls, then he took the torch from his companion and set them on fire.

  They shut the door behind them as they left that room. Moving as quickly and quietly as they could, they went on to the next room in the corridor.

  This room was much smaller than the previous one and held nothing but an elaborate chair with a young L’avan strapped to it. He was tied down so tightly he couldn’t move, and there were long cuts on each of his arms. Large bowls had been placed beneath his arms to catch the blood as it ran down.

  E’nes ran forward to free the trapped L’avan. His eyes fluttered weakly and he looked up at his rescuers in disbelief.

  “Who are you?” the prisoner asked in their native language.

  “I am E’nes, son of Me’shan. What is your name?”

  “Van’dan.” he replied weakly.

  Sa’jan began bandaging the young man’s arms. “How did you come to be here?”

  He didn’t look very certain himself. “I…do not know. I was trading in a village…and then I was here.”

  They helped him to his feet.

  “Well, it does not matter for now. You are coming with us.”

  Tears of relief ran down Van’dan’s pale cheeks. “Thank you.”

  E’nes tipped out the bowls of blood on the floor, not willing to leave anything that would aid further Shimat experimentation.

  Sa’jan’s attention was on the prisoner. “Do you know where the others are being kept?”

  He nodded slowly. “I know of a few others. We were all kept together before I was brought here. There may be others that are being held in a different cell.”

  The sound of numerous footsteps running past caught their attention. The L’avan looked at each other in a grim concern.

  “It will not be long until we are discovered,” their leader stated.

  E’nes nodded his agreement. “They will probably begin searching each of the rooms.”

  “If they are not already,” added Van’dan.

  They opened the door a crack to look out at the commotion down the hall. A burly Shimat was splitting the others into groups and instructing them on where to begin their search for the intruders.

  One of the groups started in the room that the L’avan had set on fire. Their cries of dismay echoed down the stone hallway when they discovered the destruction in progress. Other Shimat ran towards them to aid in putting the fire out.

  While they were distracted, the three L’avan rushed across the corridor to the next wooden door. They ducked into the room before checking to see if it was secure; but their haste worked to their advantage, as they caught the Shimat within by surprise.

  She was a thick woman with blunt features that were wrinkled in concentration as she bent over one of the three tables that had L’avan strapped to them. She looked up in surprise as they ran in, and only paused for a moment before springing into action. There was just enough of a hesitation for Sa’jan to sprint across the room to grapple with her.

  The Shimat was unexpectedly quick and strong for her size. With a fast spin she twisted out of his grasp and brought his arm behind his back.

  E’nes rushed forward to aid his friend.

  Seeing the impending attack, the Shimat jerked Sa’jan’s arm upward, dislocating it with a sharp crack. She then pushed him away roughly and turned to face the younger L’avan. She picked up a jar of sickly yellow liquid that she had been testing on the skin of the prisoners and threw it at E’nes.

  His vyala flared up to deflect the projectile, but it did not save him from the powerful kick that sent him flying backwards. He landed violently against one of the shelves on the wall, breaking a number of other glass containers.

  Most of these jars contained powders or dried leaves, but there was one that broke over his arm that contained a thick, silvery slime. It soaked through the material of his sleeve and left his skin feeling cold. The chilling sensation ran up his arm and straight to his heart, weakening his knees and muddling his thoughts.

  Van’dan rushed over to E’nes and began tearing at the infected sleeve. He ripped the material just above where it was saturated and flung it away from them. Then he immersed E’nes’ arm in a nearby bucket of water.

  The effects of the slime were lessened somewhat, and he became aware that the fight between the Shimat and Sa’jan was still going on.

  The L’avan was doing everything with his left hand, as it was his right shoulder that was dislocated, but he still seemed to be holding up fairly well. Unfortunately, not well enough to win. The pain Sa’jan felt detracted power from his vyala, and the most he could do was slow the Shimat’s movements enough to keep up with her.

  Van’dan, seeing the problem, got to his feet and looked around frantically. He grabbed the torch that E’nes had been carrying and began using it to smash all of the glass containers in the room. The Shimat was distracted, first by the noise and then by the destruction of her life’s work.

  “Stop!”

  Sa’jan lunged forward to jab his dagger into her side. Her eyes widened as she fell to her knees, clutching her side in pain. The wound did not kill her, but it left her momentarily disabled.

  Sa’jan went down on one knee to
look directly in her face. “Where are the others being kept?”

  She tried to smile mockingly, but it turned into a grimace. When it became clear that she would not cooperate, a sharp blow to the head rendered her unconscious.

  Van’dan, who had finished destroying all of the experiments in the room, spoke in the L’avan language. “It does not matter. I will help you find all of them.”

  He examined Sa’jan’s shoulder and then popped it back into place with a deliberate motion. Sa’jan bit back a cry of pain, but nodded his thanks.

  E’nes tried to get to his feet, but fell down again. The two other L’avan hurried over to help him.

  “What is wrong with him?” asked Sa’jan.

  Van’dan pointed to his arm, which was still colored silver from the slime. “It is some kind of poison. They used it on all of the L’avan because it makes us easier to control.”

  The older L’avan frowned in confusion. “Why?”

  “One’s vyala is entirely spent on eradicating the poison from the body. If a L’avan uses their vyala for anything else, the poison takes hold and kills them.”

  He opened his ragged tunic to show a silver streak of his own painted on his chest. “It effectively neutralizes our gifts and weakens our physical strength at the same time. As long as they do not use it too frequently, they can keep us this way indefinitely.”

  “What happens if it is used too often?”

  He glanced at the sleeve he had ripped from E’nes. “Then the poison overcomes the vyala, and the L’avan dies.”

  E’nes looked up at Van’dan in despair. “I cannot use my vyala?”

  The former prisoner shook his head sadly. “You will die if you do.”

  Sa’jan was pacing back and forth. “Is there a cure?”

  “Only time,” was the reply. “A L’avan’s vyala will eventually rid the body of the poison, but it takes time.”

  “How long?” he asked gruffly.

  Van’dan shrugged. “We were re-poisoned once a week, so it probably does not last much longer than that.”

  Tears of frustration welled up in E’nes’ eyes. “A week? We will be on our way home again by then! How can I…” He paused to steady his voice. “How can I help my sister if I am like this?”